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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281653">The Dunwich Uncle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58'>spikesgirl58</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Halloween Challenge 2020 [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:47:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,553</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27281653</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The place has been sealed off for years.  Nothing could possible be alive, but Napoleon and Illya know what they hear.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Halloween Challenge 2020 [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975084</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Dunwich Uncle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=selyndaep">selyndaep</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p> </p><p>“Did you hear that?”</p><p>“No.”  Napoleon Solo moved closer to his partner anyway.  He had heard something, but it was impossible.  This place had been locked down for decades.  Nothing could have survived here.</p><p>“Me, either.  What are we doing down here, Napoleon?”</p><p>Napoleon shook his head slowly.  “No idea, my friend.  I had no clue that this even existed.  How many headquarters have there been?”</p><p>“No idea.  I tried to find out some history about it, but the file contained just a couple sheets of paper.  Apparently, it was under the control of a Mr. Whateley.   When I asked Mr. Waverly about it, he paled.”</p><p>Illya stopped at that.  “Mr. Waverly?  I didn’t think that was possible.  He’s the man who fears nothing.”</p><p>“And yet he fears something and it has to do with this place.”  There was a whisper of a sound and he jerked his head in that direction.  There was nothing there.  To either side of them, equipment stood abandoned and in various states of decay.  Yet, there was the sense that it was merely waiting for a guiding hand to bring it back to life. </p><p>“Is that why he sent us here?  To investigate?”</p><p>“You tell me, you were the ones with the orders.” </p><p>“Wish I could, Napoleon. I just got the orders initialed by Mr. Waverly…” he trailed off when it was apparently his partner wasn’t listening.</p><p>Napoleon was frowning at a pile of documents and toed them.  “Those are assignment documents.”</p><p>Illya knelt and shifted through the hastily-burned papers.  “Why would they attempt to destroy those?  Why not take them with you?  Or at least wait until you were sure they were destroyed.”</p><p>Something else caught Napoleon’s attention instead.  “Unless the papers were part of what was being abandoned.  Illya, look at the walls.  Those marks.”  He placed his fingers over the scratches and they were dwarfed.  “I wouldn’t want to meet up with whatever left those.”</p><p>“At least you know they are old.  Look, they’re rusted.”  Illya picked up a partially burned piece of paper and pulled his glasses from a pocket.  Quietly, he scanned the page, then asked.  “Napoleon, what was the Dunwich Affair?”</p><p>Napoleon knelt beside him and took the paper.  “Wow, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.  Last time, I was at Survival School and we, Rudy Armitage and me, were on guard duty.  It was hot and sultry--”</p><p>“How well I remember that,” Illya interrupted.  “The only thing worse than the nights were the days.  I get a rash just thinking about it.”</p><p>“Anyhow, we started talking, just to keep each other awake.  Rudy told me about an experience his great grandfather had with the Whateleys.”</p><p>“The guy who ran this place?”</p><p>“His great grandfather.”  Napoleon straightened, his expression distant.  “It was still the early days of UNCLE and they were trying to figure out what worked and what didn’t. THRUSH hadn’t really organized itself into a major threat at that point and they were mostly dealing with despots and Nazis.  Hitler was fascinated with the occult and I guess Whateley decided that it bore looking into.  I guess the family had a history, at least they did to hear Rudy talk.”</p><p>A distant thump made both men look sharply in its direction and pull their weapons.</p><p>“Apparently, the old man did some pretty dicey things, things more likely attributed to THRUSH than UNCLE.  According to Rudy, the officials started getting concerned when people were coming in, but no one seemed to be leaving.”</p><p>“That’s why we have some many entrances now.  It’s harder to keep track of our coming and going.”</p><p>“Well, in this case, there was only one entrance and they were all coming and no going.  When the locals complained, a formal inquiry was made.”</p><p>“Let me guess, they disappeared, too.”</p><p>“All, except one man who they found barely alive.  He talked about a horrible monster being created here, a creature that, if unleased upon the world, would bring about its end.  He begged them to seal this place.”</p><p>“And then he died before he could say anything else?”</p><p>“No, he lived, but only just and was considered insane for the rest of his life.  He would scream about the enemy within.”</p><p>Another noise, this one closer.  “Napoleon, about our assignment…?”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“What did Mr. Waverly say exactly?”</p><p>“I was going to ask you the same thing.”  They exchanged a confused look.  “But if not Waverly than…”</p><p>“That would have been me.”</p><p>Weapons were immediately trained upon the speaker.  He moved into the room and sneered.  His features were coarse and hidden by thick hair.  “Thank you for obliging me, gentlemen.”</p><p>Illya straightened, his weapon never wavering.  He backed up slowly until he was side by side with his partner. </p><p>“And you would be?”  Napoleon’s tone was quietly threatening.</p><p>“Albertus Whateley.”</p><p>“A.W.” Illya murmured.  “Not Waverly.”</p><p>“That fool.  He had no imagination, no idea what UNCLE could become.  I did.  We did.”</p><p>“We?”</p><p>“My brother and I.  That’s him in the background.  He’s been asleep a long time and he’s very, very hungry.”</p><p>“And I don’t think we’re here because he wants your stroganoff recipe, Illya.”</p><p>“They didn’t realize the power, the genius I have.  Together we will take up where Wilbur left off.  He was my cousin’s cousin, you see.”  The noise was drawing closer.  “And now, gentlemen, if you will excuse me, I’m afraid my brother won’t distinguish between family and food at the moment.”</p><p>“Just one more thing,” Illya said while reaching into his pants pocket.  He pulled out a small device and tossed it to Whateley.</p><p>“Oh, is that a keepsake you want me to send to your relatives?”  Whateley sneered.  “Fat chance.”</p><p>“Not quite.”  Illya fired and the bullet caught Whatley in the shoulder.  “Give our regards to your brother.”  To his partner, he shouted,  “RUN, NAPOLEON!”</p><p>Startled, Napoleon blinked and then was on Illya’s heels.   Behind them, Whateley shouted, then started screaming.  Napoleon looked back just once and immediately wished he hadn’t. </p><p>They raced through the corridors and were suddenly on the street.  Thankfully at this time of the night, it was abandoned.  Illya didn’t stop running and Napoleon followed suit.</p><p>Abruptly, the ground began to shake, knocking them both to their hands and knees.</p><p>“What was that?”</p><p>“I had a feeling we were going to be asked to demo the place, so I came prepared.  That was a G-5290, the most destructive bomb we make.”</p><p>“You’d have made a great boy scout.”</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Napoleon was shaving as Illya came in, carrying a newspaper.  “I checked in with Waverly.  He told us to stick around for a couple of days, just in case.  He’s sending us supplies by courier.”</p><p>Napoleon nodded absently, trying to ignore the dark circles under his eyes.  Neither of them had slept much.  He wiped the rest of the shaving cream from his face and sighed.</p><p>“I brought coffee.” Illya pointed to the table.  He had the paper open.  “It says here that the explosion was a gas main. That’s going to cost the local gas company.”</p><p>“Waverly will put them right.” </p><p>Illya continued to read.  “They also think the building was on top of some ancient cemetery because they have discovered hundreds of skeletons.”  Napoleon settled into a chair across from Illya and helped himself to a cup of coffee.  He didn’t drink it, though, he just stared into it. “Are you okay, Napoleon?  Ever since last night, you’ve been quiet.”</p><p>“When we were leaving, Illya… just for a minute, I saw something.”</p><p>“You mean, someone.  Whateley’s twin.”</p><p>“No, I mean, something.  What I saw wasn’t human.  I’m not even sure Whateley was, not from what I saw.”</p><p>“What was it, Napoleon?”</p><p> </p><p> </p><table>
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<p><em>“It was—well, it was mostly a kind of force that doesn’t belong in our part of space; a kind of force that acts and grows and shapes itself by other laws than those of our sort of Nature. We have no business calling in such things from outside, and only very wicked people and very wicked cults ever try to. There was some of it in Wilbur Whateley himself—enough to make a devil and a precocious monster of him, and to make his passing out a pretty terrible sight. I’m going to burn his accursed diary, and if you men are wise you’ll dynamite that altar-stone up there, and pull down all the rings of standing stones on the other hills. Things like that brought down the beings those Whateleys were so fond of—the beings they were going to let in tangibly to wipe out the human race and drag the earth off to some nameless place for some nameless purpose.<br/>“But as to this thing we’ve just sent back—the Whateleys raised it for a terrible part in the doings that were to come. It grew fast and big from the same reason that Wilbur grew fast and big—but it beat him because it had a greater share of the outsideness in it. You needn’t ask how Wilbur called it out of the air. He didn’t call it out. It was his twin brother, but it looked more like the father than he did.”</em></p>
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</table><p> </p><p>Excerpt from <em>The Dunwich Horror</em> by H.P. Lovecraft.</p>
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